


Damaged Goods

by Kayryn



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayryn/pseuds/Kayryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After another long day at the office that had turned into another evening at Jane's, Maura wakes up next to her friend who is having a nightmare. Takes place sometime before 1x10. F/F</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged Goods

**Author's Note:**

> **Damaged Goods**  
>  By Kayryn  
>  **Rating** : G  
>  **Disclaimer** : TNT's & Tess Gerritsen's. Not mine. Never was, never will be.  
>  **A/N:** I was writing another fic when in the middle of that one, this came to me and messed up my plans. Then I completely stopped writing again and the whole thing was shelved. After several nudges, pokes and not so gentle nipping at me heels from people to get my act together and write again, I went through my WiP/ideas folder and found this. It's highly emotional, angsty and shippy. Like my stuff always is. Deal.

Maura woke up to Jane tossing and turning in bed, talking in her sleep, the words incoherent.

It had been another long day at the office that had turned into another evening at Jane's, the two women enjoying the easy companionship along with Chinese takeout, wine and beer. Neither had noticed the time slipping by until around one in the morning when Maura had started to doze off in the middle of a story about the time she'd visited the Catacombs of Paris. Jane had graciously offered half of her bed to Maura, an offer for which the brunette medical examiner had been grateful for. The mere thought of driving back home had felt overwhelming at the time. Or at least it had been until she'd seen the well-worn Red Sox t-shirt Jane claimed would stand for pajamas. Finally, after some hesitation the medical examiner had accepted the clothing, discreetly sniffing it to make sure it was clean.

Sitting up on the bed, Maura laid a hand on Jane's shoulder. It was slippery with sweat. "Jane, wake up."

"It hurts, it hurts," Jane cried in her sleep.

Maura's gut twisted at the words. Jane was having yet another nightmare. They were getting more frequent and though the detective tried to deny having them, the symptoms were clear from her lack of sleep to irritability and distractedness. Maura frowned. She hated to see Jane in pain; real or imagined, awake or asleep. "Jane, wake up," she tried again, her voice firmer this time. "You're having a nightmare. Wake up, honey."

Jane's body went rigid as she was startled awake, her arms still tangled in the sheets and the terror of the dream clear in her eyes.

"It's okay, Jane. You're safe," Maura said, willing her voice to be steady and calm.

"He was here," Jane rasped.

Despite having already guessed who Jane was having nightmares about, Maura's breathing hitched. She didn't have to ask who Jane was talking about. There was only one man who could control Jane's dreams. Unusually uncertain, Maura wasn't sure what to do. She wanted to offer Jane comfort, past experiences had taught here such offers weren't always welcome, especially when her friend felt she needed to collect herself first. Afraid the other woman would raise her emotional walls around her, Maura waited for a sign.

The rattled detective was unable to bring herself to look at her friend, knowing the concern she would see in those expressive eyes. She hated being weak. She hated _him_ for making her weak. She'd put him behind bars not once but twice, and still just the thought of him made her feel physically ill. Suddenly the strain was too much and she grabbed Maura's arm in a vice-like grip.

"Make it go away," she pleaded.

Wasting not a moment for thought, Maura gathered Jane in her arms and held her as close to her as she could, all the while wishing she could erase the pain Jane was in. "Just hold on to me, Jane. I won't let go." Maura promised and kissed Jane's forehead, rocking them both gently. Jane's grip on Maura tightened even more prompting another kiss and a promise from Maura, "I'll never leave you."

"You said that to me when he came back the last time," Jane whispered as she angled her head so that she could see the face of the woman holding her.

"I know. I meant it then and I mean it now," Maura vowed. "You won't be alone, Jane."

The vulnerability in Jane's eyes was heartbreaking to see and it made Maura forget a promise about friendship and boundaries she'd made herself a long time ago. She leaned down and softly pressed her lips against Jane's. The kiss wasn't like she'd always imagined it to be. It wasn't passionate and it wasn't a desperate show of lust or love. Instead the contact was almost platonic in nature, meant to offer caring and comforting. But then Jane deepened the kiss, causing Maura to whimper. _This_ was what she so often dreamed about, what she'd wanted to experience almost since she'd first met the fierce detective. With one of her hands tangled in Jane's hair, Maura cupped the woman's face with another. The cheek beneath her fingers was wet.

Before the meaning of what she felt was fully registered in her brain the kiss ended abruptly, with Jane pulling away and getting off the bed. Maura tried to catch the other woman's eyes, but Jane had turned her head away and even her face was obscured by the mess that was her hair.

Realization hit Maura and felt ashamed. She couldn't believe she'd taken advantage of Jane when she was in such vulnerable state. She'd never even told Jane about the way she felt about her and now, when the woman needed a friend to lean on, she'd pounced her without a warning. "Oh god, Jane, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have."

"No, Maura…" Jane met her eyes for a moment before ducking her head again. "I wish I could. I _want_ to. God, I want to. But you don't want me. You can't, Maura. I'm damaged goods."

Maura frowned, confused. For once her superior intellect refused to grasp the situation. Or maybe it was her hearing that was failing her, because there was just no possible way that Jane would have said what she thought she'd just heard. Jane couldn't possibly see herself like that. "Jane…"

"I'm sorry, Maura," Jane whispered brokenly.

"Jane, stop." Maura, who had still been sitting on the bed, went to her friend. She gently took one of Jane's hands and caressed the back of it with her thumb. She could feel the scar, a stark reminder of why Jane was saying the things she was. Anger surged inside her for the psychopath who, even behind bars, could inflict such pain on someone she loved. "I can't believe you think so little of yourself. It's not true and that is not how I see you. Please don't ever say that again."

"Maura..," the detective sighed, wondering how to explain how she felt. She gave Maura's hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Jane folded her arms in front of her in an unconscious effort to distance herself from what she was saying before she continued. "What he did to me, what he _keeps doing_ by haunting my dreams and thoughts and by reminding me of his existence by the scars he left me with… I can still do my job, I can still have fun, and I've proved that I can go on with my life. But there's a part of me that's broken inside and I can't repair it. I will always have the nightmares, I will always be waiting for the next time he strikes. And… I don't want you to have to deal with someone as broken as I am. You already carry so much, deal with so much of my crap just by being friends with me. I'm _a mess,_ Maura."

Maura swallowed a few chosen words about martyrdom that were on her tongue. Instead she placed a hand on one of Jane's arms in an effort to reconnect. "I know there are things that haunt you, I'm not blind to that. I never have been."

"And those things aren't going to go away anytime soon," Jane warned.

"Well, neither am I. I'll keep repeating it until you hear me, Jane. I'm. Not. Going. Anywhere." Maura struggled to find some way to convince Jane of that. The trouble was, the woman was too stubborn for her own good. She raised her hand from Jane's arm to her face, and traced the tear tracks with her fingers. "We're not kids anymore, we can't play pretend. I think it's pretty obvious that we both have our own demons to deal with. Yeah, you've collected bumps and bruises along the way, but you're not broken. Jane, you're too strong for that."

"I can't banish the memories. I tried forgetting them, I tried ignoring them, I tried dealing with them but nothing helps," Jane confessed, still certain her words would drive Maura running for the hills. A sudden image of Maura in her FiveFinger running shoes had Jane fighting a grin.

"Then let me be there to share it with you. Don't shut me out," Maura pleaded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "If you try and carry this all on your own, you will end up broken. Let me help where I can."

Jane felt defenseless against the pull that Maura conjured. The line between the friendship they already shared and the relationship that they both clearly wanted was already fading. Could she inflict her wounded self on a woman who deserved so much more than she could offer? On the other hand, could she deny herself moments like teaching the ME about the difference between the optimal way to bat and the right way? She had to admit that if there was one person who could, if not drive away the memories and the nightmares, then at least make the other times that much sweeter, it was the woman in front of her.

"I guess you're right," Jane acquiesced.

"Yes, I know."

The end


End file.
